


Drifting

by scatterthewords



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Depression, Fluff, M/M, Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-03-23 04:44:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13779981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scatterthewords/pseuds/scatterthewords
Summary: Victor Nikiforov was 27. He was top of the figure skating world, with more medals and records than any other skater in history. He was the darling of the media, hero of the fans, and adored by sponsors.He had just fallen on his famed quadruple flip, a move he had mastered more than a decade ago, in the middle of the Grand Prix qualifier.He had sold his soul to the ice a long time ago. And now there was nothing left in him as he walked away from the reporters, the fans, his coach, and his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *hops on the bandwagon years later*
> 
> On this the 4 year anniversary of the last time I wrote and published a fanfiction, I have finally started to rekindle that passion again. I know everyone else was super hype on this show a year before I ever even started it but it's just. So good. I love all of these idiots.
> 
> It's commonly accepted by the fandom that Victor was on his way to losing his inspiration when Yuuri caught his attention. So what if Yuuri had never been there? Yuuri never got into skating, or at least never the level that would have led him to crossing paths with Victor. What would have happened if Victor had just continued to carry on the way he always had? Would he have actually lost his inspiration, and what would that look like?
> 
> I hope you all enjoy! Thank you from the encouragement I've received as I flexed those atrophied writing muscles.

The silence echoed. It was a strange detail to focus on, but it was the only one that held his attention for longer than a moment. He couldn’t even recall what music had been playing; all of his routines over the years blurred together in his mind until nothing was left but a cacophony.

The next thing he noticed was that his knees were cold. That’s right, he hadn’t bothered to get back up after he had fallen on his final jump.

The stadium continued on in its shocked silence as Victor Nikiforov staggered to his feet and aimed himself towards the exit. He hadn’t even finished his routine, staid and lifeless and flawed as it had been. He had been down too long, they had cut the music. But he didn’t even care. He could feel thousands of eyes on him, in shock, in horror, in confusion. But he never once looked up.

Victor Nikiforov was 27. He was top of the figure skating world, with more medals and records than any other skater in history. He was the darling of the media, hero of the fans, and adored by sponsors.

Victor Nikiforov was 27. He had just fallen on his famed quadruple flip, a move he had mastered more than a decade ago, in the middle of the Grand Prix qualifier at the NHK Trophy.

As he stepped out of the rink,  he felt a hand grip his arm, and he was spun to face Coach Yakov. Yakov, whose eyes were unusually wide beneath his furrowed brow, who was yelling something at him, based on the way his mouth moved. But Victor just shook him off, bent down to untie his skates, and walked through the doors as the crowd finally burst into loud confusion.

Keeping his eyes fixed ahead, Victor didn’t hurry to the locker room. He just steadily pushed past everyone who grabbed at him, ignored everyone who called out to him, and stepped around anyone who tried to get in his way. He swapped his costume out for his practice clothes, leaving the rhinestones and silky fabric pooled on the floor. He pulled on his sneakers, tugged his jacket hood low over his face, and stepped out of the stadium at the nearest door he could find.

Victor Nikiforov was 27. He had sold his soul to the ice a long time ago. And now there was nothing left in him as he walked away from the reporters, the fans, his coach, and his life.

* * *

His body on autopilot, he didn’t notice any of his surroundings until he somehow ended up at a train station. The person behind the counter in front of him was frowning at him like they had been talking to him for a while. He tried to focus, but even through the emptiness inside him, the foreign tongue made no sense. After a beat, he began poking through his pockets until he found some yen that Yakov always insisted he carry. He shoved it across the counter, and the agent eyed him for a moment more before handing him three ticket cards and waving him off.

He had never been on a train in Japan before, never been much farther than the airport, the hotel, and the rink, but he kept an eye on the people around him as he swiped through the gate, shuffled onto the waiting train, and slumped into an empty seat.

As the train pulled out of the station, he rested his head against the window and stared, unseeing, at the city that whirled past. He wondered what he was doing. Wondered how he had ever felt anything at all, and exactly when his passion had started to fade. Wondered why he should care at all about the empty ache in his chest.

His phone vibrated against his leg, and he took it out with a glance. Yakov was calling. He didn’t even bother to silence the phone, just stared until it stopped buzzing.

The phone calls continued for half an hour, the train car’s gentle rocking almost lulling him to sleep, until a double buzz signified a text message instead.

> **From Yakov:**
> 
> IF YOU DON’T ANSWER ME, OR GET BACK HERE IN THE NEXT TEN MINUTES, I WILL CALL THE POLICE.

 Victor finally felt something, even if it was just a miniscule twinge of guilt. Sighing, he unlocked his phone, squinted for a moment, then typed his response.

>   **To Yakov:**
> 
> Sorry, Yakov. I can’t do as you say this time. I have to do this. I’m fine. Go back to Russia. Dasvidaniya.
> 
> **From Yakov:**
> 
> Do what?! If you walk away now, you can never come back!
> 
> …
> 
> AND YOU’VE NEVER DONE AS I SAID IN THE FIRST PLACE!

Victor smirked to himself, turned off his phone, and slipped it back into his pocket. Yakov would be fine. He would go back to Russia with Georgi and Yuri and Mila. He could help them become the next household name in skating. Maybe this time, he would even be able to fix in them whatever had broken inside of Victor.

* * *

He wasn’t sure if he’d actually fallen asleep, or if he’d just gotten lost drifting on the emptiness inside himself, but the electronic shutter sound of a phone had him jerking his head up. The teenage girls clustered in the seats in front of him blushed bright red, shoving at the one holding the camera and giggling and admonishing one another. Weariness dragged at his bones, but still he mustered up his signature charming smile, and winked at the girls.

He winced as they screamed, but still gamefully signed ever piece of paper they shoved his way, and posed for a couple selfies. Yet when the train pulled up to the next station, he bowed to them, and ducked off the train just before the doors closed behind him. The train pulled out, and he leaned against a nearby pillar, taking a deep breath.

As he straightened and headed down the stairs from the elevated platform, he looked around. He couldn’t read much Japanese, and had no idea where he was, but he shrugged and trudged towards the doors. What difference was one town from another? One country? One washed-up skater?

The town he’s ended up in was… well, frankly, adorable. Trees lined streets full of squat little buildings and shops closed up for the night. Down one of the main roads, he could see the town lights sparkling off the ocean. He took a lungful of salty air and, for the first time in a long time, started to feel a little lighter.

Still, even if he didn’t technically finish his skate, he hadn’t eaten since the early morning, and his stomach growled its complaints at him. As he passed near the center of town, he followed his nose to a small ramen shop down a side street. He rustled in his pocket to check his remaining cash, shrugged, and ducked inside.

He was greeted with the cutest little ramen shop he had ever seen. With a big grin, he slid into one of the stools at the bar. The man behind the counter eyed him, and spouted off something in rapid fire Japanese. Victor blinked at him a couple times, shrugged, and spread his hands to show he didn’t understand. The man sighed, turned behind him to grab a few things, then turned back around and set down a large steaming bowl and a small bottle of sake.

Stomach grumbling, Victor bowed his head in thanks to the man, scooped up the bowl, and took a large slurp from it. “Vkusna!” he declared, then chased it down with a shot of sake. He always loved trying new foods when he traveled, but this small-town ramen was leagues ahead of anything he’d ever gotten from the restaurants clustered around the international hotels.

The first bowl of ramen was gone too quickly. He motioned for another, and his third bottle of sake, and the chef raised his eyebrow but slid them across anyways when Victor pulled enough bills to cover the food. The warm broth filled the gaping emptiness in his stomach, and the fuzziness brought on by the sake distracted from the gaping emptiness in his chest.

He was just taking another swig of his fourth bottle of sake when someone sat down next to him, slapping him on the shoulder and calling out something incomprehensible yet enthusiastic. He swiveled towards them, a smile on his face to hide the weariness of another fan approaching him.

The willowy woman next to him just looked him up and down, quirked an eyebrow, and called out to the man behind the bar. He rolled his eyes, tossed a quick exchange back to her, then plunked two more bottles of sake on the counter in front of both of them.

“Sorry, miss, I’m not interested,” Victor blurted, even as his fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

The woman only snorted in response, slammed back nearly half her own bottle, then wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. “Well good, you’re a little young for me. Now shut up and drink.”

He blinked at her perfect English reply, before his frozen smile morphed into a real grin. He clinked his bottle against hers, and called out “To new friends!” before slamming his own bottle back.

* * *

He’d give this to Minako, she was much stronger than she looked. She could probably lift him in a pairs skate. The mental image made him giggle, and he stumbled against her even harder.

“Yeah, it’s definitely time for you to call it a night, isn’t it?” she asked him, amusement clear in her tone.

He tried to straighten up and pull some of his weight off of her, but the world wobbled dangerously, and he merely clung on tighter. “Don’t have anywhere to stay…” he reminded her, even as he tugged on the collar of his shirt. Was it just him or was this thing growing tighter?

Minako only snorted in response and tugged him forwards again. “Yeah? Well lucky you, I have some friends who will take good care of you. Oh he’s gonna owe me…” She muttered the last to herself, and ignored Victor’s inquisitive look and the small noise he made under his breath.

Victor had lost count of how many bottles he’d consumed once Minako showed up to match him shot for shot. Minako had slapped her card down to cover the tab, egged him on with wilder and wilder stories about performing abroad, and hadn’t once indicated she knew who he was or cared why he was there. And when he’d literally fallen off his stool after an incredibly hilarious joke (or maybe just a little too much sake), she’d pulled him to his feet, waved to the chef, and steered him down the street without a word.

Wherever she had in mind wasn’t too far away, because just when his legs started to wobble and threaten to give out, they materialized in front of an inn. He peered at the large gate with signs that wavered too much in his vision to even attempt to read (oh right, he can’t read Japanese anyways), but Minako didn’t give him much time to look around before she threw open the front door, and unceremoniously dropped him in a heap on the floor.

“Oh Yuuri~~!” she drawled, kicking off her shoes and stepping over him, hands on her hips in a triumphant pose. Victor didn’t even try to untangle himself, just squinted up at her in confusion.

“Minako-sensei?” a small voice called from the next room over, and light footsteps approached them slowly. The voice continued as its owner entered the room, but the rapidfire jumble of symbols and vowels were too much for him to bother with when he was so concentrated on removing his face from the floor.

“Bringing you a present. Don’t worry; I will take payment in the form of adulation and/or free drinks at a later date,” Minako responded in English, before stepping away from Victor and gesturing to him with a twirl and a flourish.

Standing in the doorway was a slightly pudgy man not much younger than himself, with messy dark hair and brilliant brown eyes hidden behind thick glasses. As Victor continued to stare, the man’s shoulders crept higher towards his ears and an attractive flush spread from the bridge of his nose across his cheeks.

Victor tried to stand and step forward, but his uncooperative legs instead sent him into a stumbling wobble that ended with him mostly splayed across the floor, but a few feet further ahead and gripping the hands of the man between his own. “Hello,” Victor purred, smiling slowly up at him.

He was used to disarming people with his charm, getting anything he wanted. What he wasn’t used to getting was a squeak, and then a strong breeze as the man yanked himself away and vanished down the hallway. Victor pouted down at his now empty hands in astonished confusion.

“Yuuri!” Minako tried to call after the man, as she doubled over in laughter. “Yuuri, is that any way to treat your guest? Come back here and show him to a room! Yuuri!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor meets the Katsukis!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got loose plans to update every Friday. However, in about 8 hours, I'm off to Emerald City Comicon, and with all the work I do there, I don't have time to post! So lucky y'all, you get it 2 days early!
> 
> Apologies for any errors you may find. I will admit my self-betaing was a little rushed on this chapter. Regardless, enjoy!

When Victor stumbled downstairs the next day, he was perplexed to find that it was mid-afternoon. He had woken up on a mat in the corner of a room filled with boxes except for a narrow pathway from his makeshift bed to the door on the far wall. He didn’t remember much about yesterday, but his head ached far less than it normally did when that happened.

“Oh look, he  _ does _ live,” a voice drawled. He turned to see a woman with short hair tied back and away from her face, leaning against a broom and eying him.

He mustered up what he hoped was a charming smile. “I apologise for any imposition I may have caused. Thank you for taking care of me, Miss..?”

She snorted, before turning back to sweeping the entryway. “Katsuki Mari. And you have Yuuri to thank for taking care of you. And Minako, I guess, for dragging you here last night. Go on through the door there, okasan will make you some lunch.”

He ran a hand through his hair, grimacing at the grimy feeling of it, before following her instructions through the sliding doors opposite the entry. He was greeted with a room full of low tables, empty at this time of day.

“Oh, hello there!” a cheerful voice called. He turned towards the other doorway and was greeted with a small, round woman, a large and welcoming smile on her face. She bowed slightly to him, and then gestured to the empty room. “Take a seat wherever you like. I can whip up something quickly for you; you must be starving. Any requests?”

He knelt in front of one of the low tables at the back of the room, beaming back at her. “Whatever your specialty is, kind miss.”

The woman covered her mouth with a giggle before bowing to him once more and disappearing back into what must be the kitchen. He lounged against the table, glancing around. It seemed he had ended up in a cute little inn of some sort, with a delightful staff. This was the kind of place he would have loved to come on vacation, before. Drunk and dazed Victor hadn’t done too poorly for himself, it seemed.

In no time at all, the woman was back, placing a steaming bowl of pork, rice, and vegetables down in front of him. “Smells delicious!” he declared, before using the chopsticks she had brought him to shovel in a great big bite.

His mind whited out and he froze, staring down at the bowl in astonishment. The woman fiddled nervously with the hem of her apron. “Is it… not good?”

He blinked up at her, before he dropped the bowl and reached for her hand instead. “This is the best thing I have ever tasted in my life,” he replied solemnly. Her worry was replaced by another giggle and a shy smile. “You must tell me the name of the angel who brought this gift into my life.”

She blushed and waved his words away. “Katsuki Hiroko, sir, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“No, the pleasure is all mine, Hiroko.” He bent to place a kiss on her hand, and received another giggle in return. “I am Victor.”

She laughed at that for some reason, but slipped her hand out of his grasp and offered him another bow. “I will be just through that door. Let me know if you need anything more.”

He had just picked up his bowl of food again and downed about half its contents before a smiling man shuffled into the room, placing a drink in front of him. “Hello, Victor-san! It is an honor to meet you. My name is Toshiya. Can I get you any more katsudon?”

Victor blinked down at his mostly-empty meal, then turned a grin on who he assumed to be Hiroko’s husband. “Please!”

Toshiya bowed to him. He swept away Victor’s now-empty bowl, handed him a new one, and turned to the television. “Do you like soccer?” he asked, but didn’t wait for a response before switching the screen on and to a sports channel. Victor shrugged, settling into his next bowl of food while Toshiya lectured about the finer aspects of the sport Victor had never seen.

With a second bowl of food put away, he slumped over the table, sated and — if not happy —at least warm. He couldn’t help but think how lucky he was to land somewhere with such kind people, to look after a stranger better than anyone in his life ever had. 

He smiled indulgently as Toshiya chattered on, occasionally interrupting himself to cheer loudly at something that had happened on screen, until Hiroko returned and swatted at her husband. “Do leave him alone for a moment, dear. Victor-san! You must have been so exhausted from your journey! Have you had a chance to enjoy the hot springs?”

Victor perked up. “Hot springs? Are there some nearby?”

Hiroko laughed. “I guess Minako-sensei didn’t explain very much before she brought you here, did she? Well then let me officially welcome you to Yu-topia Onsen! We have a few rooms to rent, but most of our patrons come for the hot springs and the food. Have you ever been to a hot springs before?”

“I’ve been to a spa, does that count?”

Hiroko looked almost scandalized before she motioned for him to stand. “No, no, not at all! Our hot springs are the best thing for health and nerves. Come, come, I’ll show you around.”

He trailed after her, looking around in wonder and nodding along as she explained to him how to use the facilities, to clean himself thoroughly beforehand, and then showed him the indoor facilities. He was already tugging at his shirt before she pushed open a door on the far wall and waved him through with a twinkling eye.

Victor wasn’t sure he’d ever loved anything except Makkachin and the ice before, but he may have fallen a little bit in love with the small hot spring behind the building. Inviting steam wafted over a gorgeous little pool, surrounded by greens and plants and a fence that kept everything hidden except for the blue sky above.

He couldn’t thank Hiroko fast enough before he was rushing through the cleaning process, scrubbing off the grime and grease from the previous day, then slipping into the hot outdoor waters with a pleased sigh.

Maybe that fall on the ice yesterday had been worse than he thought. Maybe he’d cracked his head open, or snapped his own neck, and the drifting feeling of emptiness that carried him through yesterday was just his soul’s journey on the way to this heaven he had so clearly landed in. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve heaven, but he was so, so glad he had done it.

He drifted on the water, eyes staring up at the sky above him, grateful that all the other patrons were taking advantage of the indoor facilities instead. The people here were so kind, and it was so nice not to have fans clamoring for an autograph, or reporters hounding his heels, or Yakov dragging him to—

He immediately cut off that thought. He didn’t want to think about Yakov right now. He didn’t want to think about any of it.

And the incredibly sweet people here seemed to have no clue who he was. All the better.

Victor wasn’t sure how much time passed, but eventually, once all his fingers and toes were pruny and his head was feeling a little bit floaty, he dragged himself from the hot springs. He found a soft green robe that he assumed Hiroko or one of the other staff had left for him, and slipped into it with another pleased sigh.

When he made his way through the bathing facilities into the main dining room, he was brought up short by a soft “woof.” He looked down, and his eyes widened when they landed on a small, curly brown dog. “Makkachin?” he asked in confusion. But no, the dog currently staring up at him and wagging its tail was far too small to be his beloved poodle. Still, it didn’t stop him from dropping to the floor and letting the dog wiggle in his grasp and lick at his face as he cooed endearments and stroked his fingers through its fur.

Someone softly cleared their throat nearby. He looked up, and locked eyes with an adorable, bright-red man with messy black hair and gorgeous brown eyes. A memory from last night swam through the haze of his mind, and he searched it desperately, trying to locate a name or anything he might possibly know about the man before him.

“Ah… Sorry… if he’s bothering you…” he offered in a soft voice, stumbling over his words. Victor wasn’t sure if he was struggling with the English language, or if he was just that shy. “Vicchan, come.”

Victor clutched the small dog to his chest, continuing to scratch behind his ears. “Not at all, I love dogs!”

The dog, Vicchan apparently, whined softly at his owner before licking the underside of Victor’s chin again. He grinned down at the wriggly little creature before turning that smile up at his owner. “Besides, I’m afraid it is I who must apologize. In my state last night, I don’t seem to be able to remember your name.”

The man stared blankly at him for a moment, then flushed an even darker shade of red. “Ah… I’m Yuuri…”

“Oh! Mari says you are the one I have to thank for taking such good care of me!”

Yuuri scoffed, and rubbed at the back of his neck. “I’d hardly say I took care of you. Sorry about the room; all of our regular rooms are full, you see. I could take all the boxes out of the unused conference room, but you passed out shortly after I showed you to the futon, and I didn’t want to disturb you anymore.” Most of the words came out in a rushed jumble, but Victor couldn’t help the little swell of affection he felt for someone that had gone to the trouble of finding him a soft bed in a full inn while he was likely completely useless. “I will go move those boxes right now!” Yuuri announced after a pause, and spun on his heel.

“I’ll help!” Victor announced with just as much conviction, setting Vicchan down with another pat and standing to brush off the knees of his robe. 

Yuuri spun around in the doorway to face him, shaking his head and crossing his arms for extra emphasis. “No, no, no! You don’t have to do that! Since I can’t offer you a room for a couple more days, I can at least make the one you’re staying in more habitable!”

“Yuuri, I insist,” Victor purred. He swept passed Yuuri and headed towards the stairs. He heard Yuuri sigh and mutter something in Japanese before his soft footsteps followed in his wake.

Even though the storage room they moved the boxes to was only just down the hall, their sheer numbers took them over an hour to empty out the room. In the process, Victor also helped Yuuri set up a frame for the futon, a side table next to the bed, and a rug that Victor found in a corner, shook out over the balcony (at least until Yuuri protested that it could disturb the other guests), and spread on the floor between the bed and the bathroom that had been hidden in the corner behind all the boxes.

When the work was done and Victor was almost as sweaty as he had been before his soak in the onsen, but feeling much more pleased with himself, they both stood in the doorway surveying the room. Victor nudged Yuuri with his elbow, and Yuuri only bit his lip and turned slightly pink. “I think I have the finest room in the inn!”

Yuuri laughed a little under his breath. “This is an onsen, not an inn. But I suppose if you want to call it that…”

Victor studied the man next to him. He had been so shy when they stumbled across each other in the dining room, and Victor vaguely remembered him running away last night when Victor had fallen at his feet, but while they worked, his nervous energy had settled into a quiet and soothing confidence that Victor hadn’t felt from anyone in his life. He was enchanted by it, craved it, wanted to know more about the man who contained it. He opened his mouth to ask him a question when—

“Boys! Would you mind helping me serve dinner to the other guests?” Hiroko’s voice carried up the stairs, and Yuuri turned towards it immediately.

“Coming, okasan!” He hesitated in the doorway, before turning back to Victor and nodding towards the room they had just finished setting up. “You can stay here and relax, if you like. Come down and join the other guests for dinner in a few minutes, or come down in an hour or so if you would like a little more privacy.”

“Don’t be silly! I would love to help!” Victor clasped Yuuri’s hand between both of his own and beamed down at him. Yuuri’s cheeks turned that appealingly soft shade of pink once more, before he nodded his head, tugged his hand lightly out of Victor’s grip, and led the way down to the kitchen.

* * * 

Victor couldn’t hope to match the food handling talents of Mari and Yuuri, who each handled several hot bowls of food at the same time, passing them out to the guests with a smile or a soft word. They didn’t even have to consult a list, and never seemed to mix up anyone’s orders. He just followed Hiroko’s instructions, carefully carrying out individual drinks and beaming as he managed to make himself useful.

Afterwards, he was invited to join the family in their dinner after all the other guests had been looked after. Yuuri had tried to encourage him to sit and let them bring him some food earlier, but he’d waved it off with an explanation of his late lunch, and after seeing how much Victor was enjoying himself, Yuuri stopped pressing.

His meal was just as good the second time around. Hiroko smiled brightly at his compliments, and slipped him more wine every time his cup started to empty.

Even though the Katsukis sometimes slipped into Japanese as they talked with one another, Victor never felt ignored or excluded from the conversation. The good company, great food, pleasant achiness in his muscles from the work he had done that day, and the probably-too-much wine all combined to stir up a glimmering ember of warmth in his hollow chest, and he ended up dozing against the table as he listened to the conversation wash around him.

He stirred when he felt hands on him, and looked up to see Yuuri’s soft but cautious face. “You should go back to your room, Victor, and get some more rest.”

He murmured a sleepy agreement, but when he struggled to his feet, the world dipped around him and he stumbled hard into Yuuri’s side. Whoops, had he drank  _ that much _ ?

Yuuri giggled, and Victor realized he’d said that last part aloud. When Yuuri’s hand settled against the small of his back, nudging him towards the door, Victor wrapped his arms around Yuuri and did his best to follow his directions while continually spouting praise for the care Yuuri showered him with.

Yuuri’s face was bright red by the time they made it to Victor’s room, and Victor was sure it wasn’t exertion from hauling him up the stairs, but it was so cute that he couldn’t bring himself to stop causing it. Victor was about to tease him some more, when a loud vibration cut him off.

He turned in confusion to the side table next to his new bed, where his phone rattled across the table, Yakov’s name flashing up at him. “How did..?”

Yuuri lets Victor flop onto his bed, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “You must have dropped your phone last night; I found it while we were straightening out the room. It was dead, so I plugged it in for a charge.”

Victor humphed, and flipped himself over so his back was to the phone. The phone stopped for a moment, before starting its rattle once more. He whined high in the back of his throat, flipping over once more and snatching at the phone. He jerked the cable out, then scowled down at it.

“Aren’t you… Aren’t you going to answer?” Yuuri tentatively asked.

Victor just whined again. “No. I can’t…”

Yuuri gingerly sat on the bed next to him. “Can’t what, Victor?”

“Can’t talk to him. Can’t deal with this. Can’t pretend like I feel something when everyone in the world has taken tiny pieces of me until there’s nothing left.”

Victor looked up at Yuuri, to see a strange expression twisting his features. Before he could spare the focus to attempt to process it, his phone started vibrating for the third time. He shoved it into Yuuri’s hands; Yuuri could fix it. Yuuri had fixed everything else since he’d dropped in a heap at his feet. Victor was going to bed now. He burrowed his way into his blankets, head beneath his pillow to prove it.

Yuuri sighed, tugged the blanket a little higher around his shoulders, and shuffled softly out of the room. Victor was asleep before the door had closed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finally realizes he doesn't have his wallet. An errant tease from Mari about paying for his stay leads Victor to helping out with the onsen chores. He learns a little bit from each Katsuki, and more importantly, he learns a little something about himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that I missed last week! The catch up post con was insane, and the number of clients I had on the backburner meant no time to write. Hell, I'm even scraping this chapter out later than I prefer on a Friday night. Still, thank you for everyone who continues to read, leave comments, and say such nice things! Thank you for the cheering squad, and thank you for indulging me in what is mostly self-indulgent fluff at this point. I do have somewhere I'm going with this, though it's more on the slice-of-life side rather than an action-packed plotline! Still, some of the things I laid in the first two chapters will indeed come back.
> 
> In the mean time, enjoy summer (early spring?) intern Victor!

Victor squinted down at his meal, doing his best to tilt his head to keep the sun away from direct line of sight. Alright, maybe getting that drunk two nights in a row wasn’t a great idea. At least the rest of the Katsuki family was kindly enjoying their lunch quietly, only speaking to each other in murmurs.

He’d at least managed to wake up a couple hours earlier than yesterday, and stumbled downstairs before noon, right as the family was sitting down to eat before the lunch rush. Mari had snorted at his appearance, but no one had said anything. Hiroko just placed an extra large glass of water next to his bowl, and a kindly pat on his shoulder.

Halfway through lunch, Hiroko beamed at him. “I’m so glad you like the yukata, Victor!”

He blinked down at the soft robes he was wearing, before smiling back at her. “They’re very comfortable! I don’t have anything to carry around in pockets anyways, so it’s nice not to have all the tight extra fabric I usually wear!”

Mari snickered. “You showed up without even a wallet. However will you pay for your stay here?” she teased.

Victor watched Yuuri flush bright red and wave hands at his sister. “Mari! You can’t say things like that! Victor is our guest, he doesn’t need to worry about things right now!”

Victor stared at him for a minute, before turning back to Mari with determination and thumping his fist down into his other palm. “You’re right, how callous of me! You have an inn full of guests, I can’t be the only one allowed to stay for free! It wouldn’t be fair!”

Yuuri gaped at him, before shaking his head. “No, really, Victor, you —”

Mari was leaned back, her arms stretched behind her, as a smirk played at her lips. “You could always help with the chores.”

“Mari—”

Victor stood up, and bowed to the Katsukis, all of whom but Yuuri were looking on in amusement. “Welcome to Yu-topia. How can I be of service?”

Yuuri sighed, burying his face in his hands.

Toshiya clapped his hands together. “You can help Yuuri clean up the washing areas! That would free me up to do some errands.”

Victor imitated the bow he’d seen them do. “It would be my honor. Yuuri?”

The man in question grumbled, but got to his feet slowly. “At least help me clear away the dishes first.”

Victor watched Yuuri stack the family dishes together, before he swept them from Yuuri’s hands, ignored his protests, and stared at him until Yuuri led him back to the kitchen and showed him how to operate the large sink.

Once the dishes were cleaned and racked, Victor trailed behind Yuuri as they headed to a closet stuffed with cleaning supplies, loaded up on buckets and scrub brushes, and ducked into the steaming bathing facilities near the hot springs. He’d thought cleaning a cleaning area would be easy, and it was, but it was definitely more time consuming than he’d thought. They had to scrub down the bench, pluck any hair away from the drainage, scrub the floor and walls for soap scum that Victor had never even paid attention to, and rub the handle and shower head with a rag until it gleamed.

He sat back from his work, beaming at the now spotless facility. At least, until the next patron just slipped around Victor, and reached for the handle, dumping water onto the once dry and spotless area.

Yuuri just chuckled at Victor’s little pout, and led him to the women’s side of the house, after announcing their presence and directing Victor to avert his eyes out of respect.

Two sparkling bathing facilities later, and Yuuri leaned next to him in the kitchen, shyly bumping shoulders as Victor downed a large glass of water. Whether it was all the hydration, the steam from the hot springs, or time and activity, at least his hangover was gone.

Before Victor could ask for the next activity, Mari poked her head into the room. “Oh good! Apprentice! Come help me make the beds and refresh the rooms.”

Victor clicked his heels together and bowed his head to her. “ да сэр.”

He turned back to Yuuri, a grin of his own playing at his lips. “Thank you for the training, boss!”

Yuuri shook his own head fondly. “Go ahead, then, don’t keep her waiting.”

Victor trotted after Mari, hurrying to keep up with her on the stairs. Once they reached the top floor, she stopped at a closet at the end of the hall, grabbed a stack of linens, and dumped them into Victor’s arms. Without waiting for him to stop scrambling with the load in his arms, she strode to the door third down on the left, rapped on it, and, after a paused, pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The room was relatively sparse, but in a way that fit the rest of the onsen, not out of any form of neglect. There wasn’t much for the previous occupant to have left in disarray, beyond the sheets piled on the mat. Mari nodded towards it and ducked into the adjoining toilet to straighten up in there. Victor placed the bundle of linens on the small table in the center of the room, and quickly stripped the mat of all its bedding. He then started sorting through the linens on the table, trying to find the right combination to redress the futon.

Mari stepped out just as he was shaking a set out. She blinked in surprise, before stilling his hands. “I apologize for assuming. We do not remake the beds when a guest leaves. We put the bedding away, for the next guess to put out when they arrive.” She quickly refolded the sheets he had shook out, then dropped to her knees and showed him how to fold up the futon and tuck it and the pair he had selected into a closet hidden in one of the nearby walls. Victor didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed about his mistake, Mari was so gentle in guiding him.

He listened closely as they reset the cups, tea pot, and bowls for treats on the table, straightened the minimal amount of furniture, and moved on to the next empty room. The experience was so much different than the large, westernized suites he usually stayed in, in the foreign hotels in big cities near the rink. The difference was so welcome after what he had left behind. He could feel the rough edges the hollowness in his chest had left slowly smoothing at the calming and gentle aura of the place he had landed.

Despite the sparsity in outwardly visible accommodations, the three floors of rooms still took him and Mari nearly three hours to get through. As they headed towards the kitchen, Victor panting for another glass of water, he tried to apologize. “I’m sure this apprentice slowed down your routine a lot.”

Mari waved away his words, handing him a glass from next to the sink. “We all had to start somewhere, and it was good to have an extra set of hands. You’re a good helper, Victor.”

He preened under the compliment. And just as he finished his glass, the door at the far end of the room was kicked open, Toshiya stumbling in with an oversized crate in his arms. Victor stepped forward and lifted it away from him, crossing the room to slip the crate onto the edge of the counter that dominated the center of the room. “Thank you, Victor! There is more in the car if you can be spared from the rest of the chores.”

Mari waved him away grandly, already turning to tug a cigarette from inside her robes and trailing her father to the door. “Better you than me! I’ll be back after my smoke break,  otōsan.”

The small car was piled high with boxes of groceries, and Victor stretched his arms a moment before scooping up two to Toshiya’s one. Once the car was emptied and parked away, the kitchen filled with boxes and bags instead. Toshiya grinned at him and started putting the food away. Victor shifted from foot to foot, looking around for an absent Yuuri, before stepping forward and picking up a box he couldn’t identify let alone read. “Can I help?”

Toshiya laughed, not unkindly, and tucked things away faster than Victor could track. “Normally I would love the help, but you can’t read Japanese, can you? It will be faster to do on my own.” Victor deflated a bit but nodded his head, shrinking back towards the door. “Once these counters are clear, you can help me get started on dinner, though! We’ll have another full house tonight. The game is on, and many of the locals come here to watch it!”

Victor perked up and leaned against the wall nearby, watching Toshiya as he worked and prattled on about some game that was apparently different to the game he had told him about his first afternoon here. If Yakov could see him now… Victor grimaced, and pushed through the thought, refusing to shy away. Yakov always said Victor was too lazy for any work that wasn’t the ice, and even that he hadn’t been dedicated to as he once had. But Victor had proved him wrong. He’d proved himself wrong, working a whole day without even noticing how his muscles ached slightly.

Another soak in the onsen sounded really nice, but Toshiya’s pleasant chatter sounded nicer. Victor… Victor didn’t want to be left alone with his thoughts right now. If he was, a worry niggled at the back of his mind that the jagged edges inside would sharpen and split him open again without the quiet, easy acceptance of this family who had taken him in without even knowing who he was. He was sure they were just humoring him, letting him help them in their cleanly-organized routines, but he would work hard, and do what he could to thank them without ever having to find the words for why he needed them.

Toshiya finished putting the shopping away, layed out different kinds of vegetables on the kitchen island, and handed Victor a large knife. He’d never been very good in the kitchen, never had cause to practice, but he had always been good at precision. He watched Toshiya cleanly slice a few of the vegetables waiting for them. Toshiya even slowed his cuts when he found Victor watching, and Victor carefully copied his actions, and the mountain of fresh vegetables slowly disappeared into neatly chopped piles.

Toshiya plunked three large pots onto the burners, dumping different measures of ingredients into each, patiently explaining as he worked which kinds of dishes would be made from each, and why the way his family did it made the food taste better than any other place in town. Victor nodded along, absorbing as much as he could. He’d always been forgetful, but Toshiya’s tone and the look in his eyes convinced him this was important information to know, so he would do his best to remember.

It seemed like not long at all before the dining room on the other side of the screen started to fill up, people following the delicious smells emanating from the pots he had helped create. Hiroko reappeared, smiling so wide it made Victor’s widen in return. “Oh, Victor, you’ve been such a help today! Would you mind helping me just a little longer? Yuuri’s just returned, but he needs a shower, so will you help me take orders and serve drinks?”

“I would love to!” he said, scraping his fingers through his hair so it would fall further away from his face. Hiroko handed him a large pitcher of water and grabbed a bottle of wine, leading the way into the dining room.

She bowed at each table they stopped at, and Victor did the same. Hiroko spoke in rapid Japanese to each person, but always indicated to Victor when they had requested water instead of wine, and kept the conversation going as Victor ducked into the kitchen a couple more times to refill his pitcher. He hadn’t been able to understand anyone’s orders, but it didn’t matter when Hiroko kindly handed him bowl after bowl and directed him to exactly which table to bring it to. He repeated the greeting she had patiently taught him, and the patrons smiled at him, repeating their thanks slow enough for him to understand.

Halfway through serving dinner, Yuuri rejoined him, hair still slick and cheeks a little flushed, Vicchan happily nipping around his heels. “Sorry, sorry! I should have been paying better attention to the time, you shouldn’t have to do this!”

“But Yuuri, I’m having so much fun!”

Yuuri’s eyes searched his face for a moment, before a small and shy smile rose, and he ducked his head. He joined Victor in carrying out meals to the patrons as they rotated in, giving Victor the chance to once again admire how seamlessly he carried three hot dishes to every one of Victor’s.

Weariness began to weigh him down just as the last patron was served. They mingled in the kitchen for a few moments longer, just in case anyone ordered additional food, before Hiroko nudged them back towards the family dining area. Mari even wandered back in, smelling like sea air and smiling softly to herself as she joined them. “First afternoon I’ve had off in a while. Thanks, Apprentice.”

Victor felt a light flush dust across his face, and he touched his cheeks softly in surprise. It had been years since he’d displayed any kind of emotion like this. Years of being in the flash of a camera or the spotlight of fans had long since squashed his real feelings down deeply inside of him, replaced with performing the emotions he knew people wanted to see. A flush usually came from an intense four minutes on the ice. Yet one afternoon of work, and the appreciative words of those around him, had him blushing like a 15 year old.

It was nice.

Hiroko set bowls of the last of supper in front of them, and leaned happily against Toshiya’s side. “Victor-chan, you were so helpful today! We hadn’t realized how smoothly a fifth helper around here would make everything. Toshiya got to handle the shopping two days early, I got to soak in the onsen before dinner rather than after, and even Mari took a couple hours off. We’ve been trying to get her to take a break for years! It is so nice to have you around.”

Victor ducked his head, smiling into his bowl of food. “Thank you for having me, Katsukis. I will try to be the perfect helper.”

He felt a nudge in his side, expecting it to be Mari, and looked up. He was surprised to find it was Yuuri, who was still sitting closer to him than he had before. “You already are your best. You don’t have to be anything but Victor. We’re happy enough with that.”

Victor felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He blinked owlishly at the people around him.

But the Katsukis merely nodded their agreement, and turned to one another, continuing on half-finished conversation threads from earlier in the day.

Yuuri slipped chop sticks into Victor’s hand, startling him, but Yuuri simply picked up his own dish and began eating. “So how did it go today?” he asked.

Victor brightened, shoveling at his own food, pausing long enough to excitedly tell him about all the things he’d learned working with Mari, about how fast he could chop things once he’d learned the right hold, and his thoughts on the different combination of spices Toshiya had showed him. Yuuri never seemed bored, or distracted, just continued to smile indulgently as Victor gushed about his day.

Victor had never had a day like this before. Plenty had started off with a hangover, especially with Chris around the night before. But for a long time, he thought he’d lost the ability to feel this satisfied, this tired.

And for the first time in his life, he felt accepted.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone finally realizes that Victor left all his stuff behind when he ended up on Yu-topia's doorstep! Hiroko drafts Yuuri into playing tour guide as Victor explores Hasetsu and gathers a few essentials.
> 
> It's a day late, but hopefully not a dollar short! These boys just had to derail it into even more sickening cuteness than I originally intended.

“Oh, Victor-chan!”

Victor looked up from where he was scrubbing at the knee of one of the two pairs of pants the Katsukis had given him. He’d been scrubbing at something in the shower tiles yesterday, and somehow it had just ended up on him instead.

“We have more yukata you can use!” Hiroko continued to reassure him, looking over his outfit critically. “And I’ve washed the clothes you came with, but you probably need some other things, don’t you? Especially since you didn’t come with anything else… The underwear alone can’t be comfortable for much longer.” She winked at him, even as his face flushed.

“Thank you for washing my practice clothes. Don’t worry about me; I’m sure I’ll figure something out. As you say, I didn’t come with anything else. I don’t wish to be a burden.”

“Nonsense,” Hiroko firmly responded, stepping forward to take the ruined bottoms from him. She slipped something else into his hand, and when he blinked down, he found a fold of bills. “You’ve worked hard this last week. You’ve earned this.”

His breath froze in his chest. He wasn’t a stranger to having money to buy whatever he wanted; he’d been winning large prizes and sponsorship contracts for years. He wouldn’t even argue that he had earned that money —he had, after all, given two decades of his life, countless hours, and his entire image to reach the heights that he had.

But somehow, staring down at a few thousand yen, freely given to him by a family who worked hard and didn’t have anything nearly as flashy to show for it, who had taken care of him even though he had nothing with him and they never had any guarantee of being repaid, the money in his hands was more precious than all of his medals combined.

He bowed his head and thrust the money back towards Hiroko. “Hiroko-san, I can’t possibly accept this! My work has been to cover my room and board!”

Hiroko merely laughed, folded his hands over the money, and turned towards the door. “You have been an asset to this onsen, and you will receive fair compensation.”

Before Victor could protest any farther, Hiroko leaned out the door. “Yuu-chan, come here a moment?”

Victor heard Yuuri’s soft reply from down the hall before the man himself padded into the room. “Victor-chan needs a few essentials. Since he doesn’t speak any Japanese, you can both have the day off, and you can help him around town!”

For some reason, Yuuri turned bright red, and stared at his mother in the way people do when they’re having a silent conversation. Yakov tried to do it to him all the time, but Victor usually just ignored him. Which seemed to be Hiroko’s same response, as she merely nudged Yuuri, grinned at them both, and left the room with a wave. “You boys have fun!”

Victor continued to watch Yuuri from where he was still crouched on the floor. Yuuri ran a hand over his face with a huff, and then smiled apologetically at Victor. “I guess we have the day off, then. We can go whenever you’re ready.”

Victor stood and dusted his knees off, then held his arms out to either side. “No time like the present!”

Yuuri led the way to the front entrance, where Victor was brought up short by yet another surprise. His running shoes were still there, but he only just now realized he had no idea where his socks had gotten off to. Probably wherever Hiroko had put his cleaned practice clothes. Or lost in a corner of his room.

He looked at the soft grey sweater and jeans Yuuri was wearing, then plucked at the top of the yukata he was wearing. “Is it okay to go out in this, or should I put something else on?”

Yuuri eyed him, then shrugged. “It’s not like we’re going anywhere fancy. You could wear that if you want. But okaa-san put your clothes in your closet if you want to change back into them.”

Victor wasted no time dashing up the stairs and rummaging through the closet, coming out triumphant with his sleek black practice clothes. He took a moment to mourn the fact he wouldn’t be able to dress up for Yuuri, but the other man had said it didn’t matter, so surely his practice clothes would be alright.

Yuuri was crouched in the entrance hall, fingers buried in Vicchan’s fur and murmuring softly to him in Japanese. As Victor slipped into his shoes, he gave him one last scritch and straightened, pushing the door open and sending one last “stay” command Vicchan’s way.

“He can come with us!” Victor reassured. Yuuri hesitated a moment before shaking his head.

“I’m not sure how long we’ll be out, and he gets tired after a couple hours. I don’t want you to miss getting anything you need because we had to head back home early for Vicchan.”

Victor pouted a bit, but it made sense. Even when he had time to wander town with Makkachin, at his poodle’s advanced age he preferred to lounge around the house than spend every hour outside. After an hour or so, he began nudging Victor insistently to return. So Victor bent to rub Vicchan behind the ears, then followed Yuuri out the front door.

Yuuri started out hurrying down the street, but after a couple furtive glances at Victor, he slowed to a more sedate stroll. Victor was too busy looking around him to hurry. The town was just as cute as it had been the day he arrived. The few people out and about on the street smiled and waved, calling out to Yuuri. He always responded back, and even paused to talk to a few of them. It gave Victor a chance to look at more of the details, like the stickers on a bike here, the fabric in a shop window there, or the leaves shuddering on a tree there. When spring arrived, he bet those trees were gorgeous and covered in flowers.

“So… What sort of things are we looking for?” He looked up at the sound of Yuuri speaking English, and found the man smiling softly at him.

Victor tapped his finger against his mouth with a hum. “A comb would be nice; finger combing my hair has left it in a terrible state.”

“I think it still looks nice,” Yuuri replied. After a beat, he seemed to realize what he said and flushed bright red. 

“Awww, Yuuri~!” Victor draped himself over Yuuri’s shoulders. He hunched in on himself for a moment, before he shook his head and pushed Victor off with a laugh. He let it go for now, turning his eyes towards the shops they were approaching. “Some basic toiletries would be nice; I can’t keep borrowing your razors forever. Ooh, I wonder if anyone carries my usual brand of shampoo as well? And some clothes would probably be a good idea. The yukatas are really comfortable, but I need something to wear under it, apparently.”

“What about sleep clothes?” Yuuri suggested.

“Why would I want those?” Victor pouted back.

Yuuri flushed again, but just nudged him with his shoulder towards the corner store. “Anything else? There are a couple higher end shops in town where you could get some other types of clothes.”

Victor followed Yuuri into the store, his mind on the casual clothes and atmosphere of everyone he’d interacted with since coming here. Even when he had been comfortable at home, or in his practice clothes right now, he always had designer labels and high-end fashion. But the simple cottons he’d been given since coming made him feel more at home than his open-plan apartment ever had.

“No, that’s alright. Unless you think I should, so that I don’t have to use so many of the inn’s robes? I would hate to be a burden on Hiroko-san.”

Yuuri turned back to him with soft eyes from where he was perusing different brands of soap. In a quiet voice, he reassured, “Okaa-san would be happy to see you comfortable, whatever that means. She would probably be happy to dress you in onsen staff robes for the rest of your life, if you let her.”

Victor grinned, and slipped the bar of soap Yuuri was holding into a basket he snagged from the door. Whatever was best for the Katsukis would work best for him, too.

They continued to chat aimlessly about the onsen, Yuuri’s family, and the chores they would need to return to tomorrow as they moved through the store, slowly gathering the essentials Victor needed for his stay. Yuuri grabbed a few things for himself as well, but all their purchases fit in one bag as they sailed out of the corner store and into a clothing store farther down the block.

Victor sorted through the different styles of underwear while Yuuri studiously busied himself with the tie display, not even glancing over. Victor thought it was cute that Yuuri pretended so hard not to want to know what cut Victor preferred, and he teased him about it. Loudly. There was just something about the lovely shade of red that Yuuri turned as he admonished him, reminding him that just because most people in the store didn’t speak much English didn’t mean none of them did.

Normally, when Victor did go shopping, he went all out, until whatever attendant he had brought with him was loaded down with bags, and he had bought anything that caught his eye, from sunglasses to scarves to chocolates and more. But with the essentials all purchased, and only a couple thousand yen left to his name, Victor found the only thing he wanted more of was Yuuri’s quiet laugh as he told another ridiculous story about Vicchan and one of the summer festivals in town.

Trying desperately to delay their return to Yu-topia, Victor cast about for another distraction. His eyes fell on a huge building towering over them. “Yuuri? What’s that castle over there?”

“Hmm?” Yuuri followed his line of sight. “Oh, that’s Hasetsu Castle. Inside is a ninja house.”

“Really? Ninja?!”

Yuuri laughed quietly again. “You can go in, if you like. They have exhibits, and a beautiful garden.”

Victor lit up, and turned his biggest heart-shaped smile on Yuuri. “Let’s go!” He grabbed Yuuri by the hand, and tugged him towards the ninja house, laughing all the way.

* * *

After the ninja house, they grabbed a quick meal from a nearby lunch counter. Even though it was still winter, the sun was out, and Victor had persuaded Yuuri to sit on a bench with him overlooking Hasetsu.

Normally he would have had his phone out and snapped pictures of everything, but he didn’t carry it with him anymore. Yuuri must have noticed his longing for photos on his face, because he pulled his own phone out and offered it to Victor. Victor had then dragged Yuuri into a number of selfies. He was flipping through them now, grinning around his lunch at the progress he could see of Yuuri tensed up under his arm to slinging a hand around his waist and grinning and laughing at the phone instead.

He sighed happily before locking the phone and handing it back to Yuuri. They sat quietly for a moment, staring out over the water.

He could feel Yuuri fidgeting next to him. When he turned curious eyes to him, the Japanese man took a deep breath, and then turned to Victor. “Do you… have anyone back home who might be missing you?”

Victor quirked an eye. “Yuuri, are you asking me if I have a girlfriend?”

Yuuri flushed, but resolutely maintained eye contact. “That wasn’t all I was asking about, but if you like.”

Dropping his teasing tone, Victor sighed, leaning back. He knew what his answer should be, of course. Yakov was likely scouring the country for him right now. He could think of a fair number of slimy reporters that would sell someone else’s kidney to get word of his location. His fans, who claimed to love and adore him but wouldn’t know the first thing about him, were probably desperately sobbing to each other on their online forums.

He pushed all that aside, but what he was left with was a deep frown. “...In my line of work, there wasn’t much room for anything personal. I’ve had flings here and there; they were fun, but at the end of the day, we never could have worked. So no, I don’t think anyone is missing just Victor.”

Yuuri went still beside him, and Victor held his breath. He’d opened himself up to questions about exactly what he did, what he’d left behind, who “just Victor” was. But as much as he loved his little oasis of anonymity he had found here, he would answer the questions, if Yuuri asked. He took a moment to mourn the loss of his quiet haven.

But the questions never came. He startled when instead, Yuuri wrapped his arms around him, and gave him a tight hug. Victor barely had time to return the gesture before Yuuri was rocketing to his feet, fiddling with his phone and resolutely avoiding Victor’s gaze. He could almost feel the apology for asking radiating off him.

“Would you like to go to the beach?! I… I know it’s December, but Hasetsu’s beaches are the best in the world!”

Victor smiled up at Yuuri. What a darling, considerate man for caring about his feelings so much that he would offer up a distraction. Victor stood, and brushed off the seat of his pants. “The beach sounds like a great idea, Yuuri!”

The water looked so far away from where they were standing, but a few side streets later and he could feel the sand crunching beneath his shoes. He tilted his head up to watch the seagulls flying overhead, then took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

When he opened them, he grinned wickedly at Yuuri, before bending down to untie his shoes and roll his pant legs up. “Victor, what..?”

He laughed as he grabbed Yuuri’s hand, and pulled him towards the water. “It’s the ocean, Yuuri! I haven’t been in ages! Let’s go in!”

“Victor, it’s December!” Yuuri pulled his hand from his grasp just before they reached the waves, digging his heels into the sand.

“So?” cajoled Victor, dancing into the ocean spray.

Then the first wave lapped up over his ankles. And he let out a shriek. That water was  _ freezing. _ And cruel Yuuri had no mercy, doubling over to laugh as Victor skittered back up the beach. “Yuuri, no fair!” Victor whined. He made to grab at Yuuri and drag him closer to the water himself, but the man infuriatingly danced away from his reach and dashed across the sand. Victor spared a mournful thought to all the future sand he’d be dumping out of his socks before he gave chase.

Their impromptu game of tag ended when Victor tripped over a rock he hadn’t seen and crashed into Yuuri’s legs, taking him down with him. They rolled across the sand for a moment, until they came to a stop with Victor propping himself over Yuuri, breathless laughs on both their lips and eyes sparkling at each other.

Victor didn’t have a word for the warm content aching in his chest. Yuuri had somehow, at least for an afternoon, banished the dark gaping maw that had consumed him for longer than he cared to think about. And the smile Yuuri aimed his way kept that warmth glowing brighter.

After a few moments to catch their breath, Yuuri nudged Victor off, before standing to try to shake the sand off his clothes and hair. He then offered a hand down to Victor, still grinning. “Come on, we should head back to the onsen. Okaa-san can fix you something warm.”

Victor took his hand, and only reluctantly let it go when he had to bend to pull his socks and shoes back on. Yuuri led the way back towards town, shooting Victor small disbelieving smiles as they walked quietly next to each other.

“Thank you, Yuuri, for being my guide. I can’t remember the last time I had fun like this. I wish it didn’t have to end.”

Yuuri blushed, but it was a softer glow than his normal embarrassed ones, and he waved off Victor’s words. But when they walked down a different street, the sun setting behind them, he stopped and cocked his head at the faint music coming from a club nearby. His eyes fixed on Victor, Victor could see the resolve even before Yuuri nodded to himself. “Victor, would you like to dance? With me?”

He was sure the delight erupting in his chest showed in the wide smile he could feel stretching across his face. He clasped Yuuri’s hands in his and nodded, letting Yuuri lead the way into the nearby club. He didn’t know if he deserved a day like this, but he thanked whatever god that may or may not be listening that someone like Yuuri Katsuki existed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to go. They were supposed to do some shopping, tell stories to get to know one another, carefully dance around any mention of Victor’s skating career because he doesn’t want Yuuri to know and Yuuri doesn’t want to let on that he knows, and end a little closer as friends. But dammit, this Yuuri had to be just a bit more confident than canon!Yuuri. He had to push it way harder it to cute date territory.
> 
> Yuuri: I’m gonna date this sad white boy.
> 
> Me: Yuuri, no, wait! We have a plan! We--
> 
> Yuuri: I’m gonna do it.
> 
> OTL I hope you enjoy the tooth-rotting fluff. These boys will do each other in no matter the universe, I s2g. And thanks to [this delightful image](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/ce/7a/e4/ce7ae4a4e53ce80d19ad83ab20878c32.jpg) for date activity ideas.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor wakes late one afternoon after a month in Hasetsu, just in time to see Yuuri slipping off to wherever he goes several days a week. In curiosity, his plans for lunch and chores get set aside as he clips on Vicchan's leash and follows Yuuri out into the city, and into a secret he was hoping to keep for much longer yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shortest chapter of the fic, but it had more emotional impact to cut it where I did. But some of the most popular questions in the comments finally get answered this chapter! Sorry for the (minuscule amounts of) resulting angst! Next chapter will be much longer, and much more dialogue heavy.

It was nearing two in the afternoon by the time Victor wandered downstairs. In the month he’d been in Hasetsu, his sleep schedule hadn’t really stabilized, but none of the Katsukis ever commented. He simply slotted into wherever in the chores they were that day. There were stretches of days where he didn’t sleep much at all, and ended up tackling some long-forgotten chore. But more often than not he slept until well past breakfast, and helped in the rooms, the onsen, or the kitchen.

Today he made it downstairs just in time to see Yuuri slipping out yet again. Little Vicchan was left behind as usual, and he pawed sadly at the door with a whine.Victor had been planning to throw together a quick lunch before he started on laundry, but his curiosity got the better of him. Slipping on some onsen sandels left by the door, he tugged Vicchan’s leash from its hook. The poodle jumped around him, yipping in excitement, only stilling long enough for him to clip it on.

They slipped out of the onsen in just enough time to see Yuuri turning the corner at the end of the block. Victor hurried to catch up, but slowed once he had caught sight of him again to stay far enough back that the jingle of Vicchan’s collar or his excited woofs wouldn’t catch Yuuri’s attention.

Yuuri was jogging down the street and across the bridge, waving to a few people he encountered. As Victor trailed him, he also smiled and waved at those people. They watched on in amusement, but didn’t try to stop him or draw attention to him.

Several days a week, Yuuri vanished from the onsen. He never talked about it, and whenever Victor asked, he seamlessly steered the conversation to some other topic. The rest of the Katsukis never thought anything of it either, because any time Victor asked them while Yuuri was out, they only assured him Yuuri would be back by dinner. Victor wondered if the jog was why Yuuri always ducked into the shower after his return. Vicchan pulled against his leash to go faster, but the way ahead was clear, and Victor could still keep an eye on Yuuri even as he pulled farther ahead.

He could see the ninja castle rising above them; maybe Yuuri was studying to be a ninja! But Yuuri didn’t seem to be heading there. Instead, he turned to his left, jogging up a huge set of stairs and disappearing into a huge building. Victor looked up, and startled to find English on the overhang. But when he translated the words, “Ice Castle,” he froze up. Was this..?

Ignorant of his internal dilemma, Vicchan tugged him up the stairs, following happily in Yuuri’s wake. He dragged his feet up towards the doors, a building sense of dread weighing him down.

It only got worse as he stepped into the lobby. It was empty of people, thankfully. Instead, he was assaulted by… himself. Large posters of Victor pouted, smiled, stared down at him from almost every wall. His heart dropped into his stomach, and he sank to his knees.

Vicchan was suddenly leaning against his front, paws on his chest as he licked at his cheeks. Victor’s fingers buried in his curly fur, and he struggled to control his breathing. Where was Yuuri?

He pushed to his feet, still clutching Vicchan in his arms, and turned towards the crisp smell of ice. Just the thought of ice made his heart ache, but cut right through to that empty echo in his chest at the same time.

Yuuri was just stepping into the rink as Victor slid into the room. With earbuds in, he didn’t even look around, lost to the world outside of the ice. Scattered thoughts drifted through Victor’s mind as he watched Yuuri skate, from accusations to a sharp sense of betrayal to a deep self-loathing for ever thinking these people liked him for himself. But Yuuri never once looked up, never noticed him standing watch.

After a few laps, a few stretches, a few spins and twists, Yuuri settled into the middle of the rink, one foot tipped behind him, hands at his side, head down. Victor unconsciously straightened, leaning forward in the tension that filled the air.

Yuuri tipped his head back until he was looking up towards the ceiling, and after a beat his arm swept up, then led the way as he twisted himself around, wrapping his arms around himself before he pushed himself forward in the first steps. Every line of his body screamed emotion as he curved across the ice, then dropped to one knee. As he raised himself back up, his hand stretched up, reaching for something perpetually too far away. Sorrow etched on his face, he spun again before launching himself into a triple lutz.

He continued across the ice, gesturing and drawing an invisible crowd in. It wasn’t until he launched himself into a double flip that Victor startled, finally realizing what he was watching.

The jumps were downgraded, of course they would need to be for anyone who wasn’t a professional skater, but the moves were clear, even if the emotion was higher than anything he’d ever seen. The rink was silent, but the music seemed to flow from his body with every gesture, every spin, every graceful jump.

Yuuri Katsuki was performing “Stammi Vicino,” Victor’s free skate from the previous year’s season.

He could practically hear the trilling flutes as Yuuri twirled across the ice, his hands floating around him and guiding the search for a true partner. The jumps had been downgraded, but his angles in his spins were flawless, catching Victor’s breath in his throat as he tracked his progress across the ice. It was as if Yuuri was calling out to him specifically; he could feel something inside him trying to drag him forward as Yuuri moved into the step sequence. He just tightened his grip around the leash in his hand, planted his feet, and held his ground.

Yuuri dipped closer to the center of the divider, but his eyes remained unfocused, and he continued, oblivious to Victor’s presence. Victor’s heart swelled with what should have been the swell of the music, echoing through the empty rink as Yuuri moved into the final spin combination. Had Victor ever truly made it as captivating as this quiet man from a small town in Japan?

Yuuri finally came to a stop, hands wrapped around his throat and breathing heavy. And Victor couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Finally, Vicchan seemed to run out of patience. He pawed at Victor’s legs, leaning towards him with a whine. Yuuri startled at the noise, falling out of his ending pose and scrambling towards the wall, shoving his glasses back onto his face. From across the room, he and Victor froze, staring one another down.

Without a word, Victor scooped up Vicchan, turned on his heel, and hurried from the room, past the mocking posters of himself, and out of the rink. He shouldered past a small child and her parents, a rudeness he normally would never allow himself, but he had to get out of here.

How  _ stupid  _ he had been for this past month, thinking he could just disappear. Thinking that people would truly take him in out of the kindness of their hearts.

Had the Katsukis known all along? Of course, that would be why they never worried about him paying for his stay. They had to know he was good for it. Even if he had left and never paid them back, they probably could have sold the story of Victor Nikiforov, hapless to regular life, daring to think he could be helpful in their inn.

He… He thought…. He thought that maybe, for the first time in his life, they could like just Victor.

How stupid he had been.

Everything blurred past him as he raced back through town. A couple townspeople worriedly called after him as he passed, but he didn’t stop, or look around. He had never been more thankful that he didn’t understand much Japanese.

It wasn’t until he was nearly back at Yu-topia that he noticed that Vicchan was wiggling in his arms, licking at his cheeks. Licking at the tears that were sliding down them.

He angrily dashed them aside with a swipe of his arm. In the last couple weeks, with the comfort and routine of Hasetsu, he’d begun to privately grow afraid of the gaping emptiness inside him, desperate to fill it with whatever activity, whatever action he could get involved with. But now, he pulled it over him, draped himself in its hollow void.

Mari was sitting at the front desk when he came in, flipping through a magazine with a bored expression. It melted into one of concern when she got sight of whatever his face was doing. “Victor-chan..?”

He didn’t answer, didn’t even look at her, just dumped Vicchan into her lap and dashed upstairs, slamming his door behind him. He didn’t know how long he had until Yuuri came chasing after him.

He snagged the shopping bags from their trip into town a couple weeks ago, and started haphazardly throwing things into it. But once all of his clothes, a few of the robes he had grown used to, his comb and his toothbrush, everything he owned here was spread out in front of him, he stopped, staring at it blankly.

Where would he even go? If he couldn’t be nameless in some small town thousands of kilometers from home, there wasn’t anywhere that would be any different. And without a passport, or money, or more than a week’s worth of clothing, he would never be able to get anywhere even if there was.

And what would it solve? He’d been here a month already. If the Katsukis were going to sell his story to the highest bidder, surely they already had enough fodder?

He found himself pacing his room, his hand tugging through his hair. What was he supposed to do next? Where could he even hope to go?

And why hadn’t Yuuri come yet, to make his excuses or try to explain himself?

What was Victor even hoping to hear?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri Have Some Words. Victor finds out a lot of assumptions he made were wrong. Including that he's not as much of a ninja as he thinks. Yuuri (and all the Katsukis. and all Hasetsu) CARES, okay, Victor?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SEE I PROMISED THIS FIC ISN'T DEAD. I just got a nasty case of writers block. This chapter wasn't working the way I wanted it to. I'm still not sure it does work, but I tried my best. We don't get to see Victor post anger very often, the show tends to skip those moments unfortunately. But hopefully the longest chapter in the fic makes up for the INCREDIBLY LONG DELAY. I'M SO SORRY EVERYONE.

Yuuri was practically hiding in the doorway since he had come in, but Victor didn’t look up at him. He continued sitting at the table, laughing brightly as Mari told yet another story, poking at a stack of photo books on the table in front of them.

He’d spent the first hour in his room, alternating between pacing, throwing his belongings around, feeling guilty about the mess he caused and cleaning it up, and starting the cycle over.

But that wasn’t what Victor Nikiforov did.

That wasn’t the man everyone expected, that anyone wanted.

He’d calmly pulled the mask of charm and suave over himself once more, a mask that had become more familiar than the reality he had been indulging in since coming to this town. A reality which turned out to all be a lie. Yuuri wanted the Victor Nikiforov on the posters, from the routine he had stolen on the ice. He would give him that Victor.

So he’d gone downstairs offering to sign a photo for the onsen, and maybe he could call one of the local press and give an interview, surely that would bring more business? Mari had eyed him warily, but he’d poured on the charm until she was telling him stories about young Victor Nikiforov fan Yuuri and the walls full of posters he still had. She’d even given him a tour, though Yuuri had taken most of the posters down and hidden them somewhere. Instead, she’d pulled out a photo album and shown him pictures of a chubby little Yuuri on skates, trailing after a square child and a willowy girl.

He laughed again, finally letting his eyes fall on Yuuri as if just noticing him. He let his smile sharpen, even as he adjusted the way he draped himself next to the table. “Yuuri~ You should have let me sign your posters! Maybe the ones down at the rink, too. It would have been a much more useful way to earn my keep than — ”

Yuuri sighed and finally stepped into the room and away from the door. “Thank you for staying with him, Mari-nee-chan.”

“No problem, little bro. I’ll never pass up an opportunity to embarrass you.”

In a flash, the smirk fell off Victor’s face, replaced with an icy coldness to rival the one in his chest. He gave one short nod, and without another word, pushed himself to his feet and swept out of the lounge, walked carefully up the stairs to his own room and shut the door firmly behind him.

Apparently he wasn’t trusted to be left alone for very long, though. He slumped onto the floor, back against his bed as he stared vacantly out at his dark room. After a few minutes, a knock sounded at the door.

He made no move to open it or call out.

After a few more moments of silence, the door slid open anyways, and Yuuri crept in, closing the door behind him again. He and Victor stared at one another from across the space in silence, until Yuuri took a couple more steps into the room and crouched down, settling onto his knees with his hands folded in his lap.

“So everyone has known this whole time; it wasn’t just you. I should have known. Toshiya knew my name without me ever introducing myself. I assumed it was because Hiroko told him, but she didn’t need to, did she? And here in Japan, you use people’s last names until you’re more familiar with them. But no one even asked me for mine. How long have I been making a complete fool out of myself?”

Yuuri flinched, but shook his head. “They wanted to respect your privacy. You clearly needed some time away, and we —”

“What have you been wasting your time with, to come up with such a pathetic excuse?” Victor asked, all humor drained out of his voice. “Hours alone, behaving like even more of a joke in front of your sister, and that’s the best lie you can come up with?”

Yuuri ducked his head, staring down at his hands. “I… I had to teach a class. My youngest students started coming in just as you left, and with Yuuko out sick, I couldn’t just leave them there. There’s a regional competition coming up, and my older students needed the practice, I couldn’t cut their times, and I…”

He trailed off, looking back at Victor. “You caught me goofing off to warm up. I’m sorry.”

Victor eyed him critically. “How long have you known? Obviously you knew; why did you let me pretend I could be no one here?”

Yuuri’s lips pressed into a firm line. After another beat of silence, he started talking softly. “Victor, I’ve known who you were since I was twelve years old. Yuuko and I, we saw you performing at the JGPF on a tiny TV in the locker room, and it’s what turned skating from something my ballet instructor had asked me to add to my training, to something that I loved with my whole heart.

“But that was years ago. I’ve followed your career, but I never thought I’d meet you. Then Minako-senpai turns up with you on our door. After everything that happened, and the way you were that night… It’s obvious you didn’t want anyone to know who you were. You just assumed… And I never corrected you.”

Victor dug his knuckles into the sides of his legs until his hands turned white. “So instead you all lied to me, for weeks! Did I fulfill all of your deepest fantasies? Or was I a disappointment to you?”

“Victor—”

“And now, what? I need to be babysat? What, did you text Mari to keep an eye on me? Worried I would run away and leave you to your little, insignificant life?”

“Mari was worried about you on her own. She—”

“Hiroko, and Toshiya, did they get enough pictures of the famous Victor Nikiforov in their branded onsen robes? Is that why they never told me to grow up and get my own things?”

“That’s not fair, okaasan and otousan care—”

“Our day in town. And at the beach. And the  _ dancing _ . Did you get everything you had ever wanted?”

“Vic—”

Somewhere in his rant, Victor had jumped to his feet, towering over Yuuri as he shouted, red in the face, limbs shaking. “I thought you liked me for me!” The silence following his cried words echoed. The color had drained out of Yuuri’s face, but Victor felt no joy in it. He suddenly felt exhausted, empty. Like he’d fallen headfirst into the hollowness he’d been fighting the last month in Hasetsu. He crumpled to the floor again, and tilted his head back against the foot of his bed, staring up at the ceiling through a burning haze of tears. “I thought… you liked Victor. Just… Victor. But of course, I’m nothing but an idiot. Strip away the gold medals, the sponsorships, the fame, what else is there to even like?”

The silence stretched on. Maybe Yuuri had gotten up and left. He couldn’t blame him, not for this. After all, Victor had thoroughly and completely crushed any dreams of his idol. Victor wished himself that he could walk away from the shallow husk of a man who cried on his own floor when someone liked him, but not the way he wanted them to.

But Yuuri didn’t leave. After a few more moments, Victor heard shuffling noises, and looked down at a touch on his hand. “I liked the Victor that always pushed himself and others to be better and to reach further. I liked the Victor that was kind to everyone, no matter where they came from, no matter the heights he had reached, because everyone was just as important as he was, despite it all.”

Victor snorted derisively and pulled his hand away. Yuuri had fallen for the same facade that everyone else had. Yuuri didn’t know the first thing about him.

But Yuuri didn’t let up. He shot forward, lacing his fingers with Victor’s own and gripping his hand tightly. Victor looked up, startled, to see a fire in Yuuri’s eyes, a determination to the set of his jaw. “I like the Victor to whom taking advantage is such a foreign concept that he hires himself as an assistant to some backwoods onsen despite no one expecting anything of him. I like the Victor who carelessly says whatever he thinks, but is just as quick to apologize if it unintentionally offends. I like the Victor who drops to his knees to play with a stranger’s dog, no matter the state of the floor or the ground around him.

“I like that you, Victor, see so much beauty and joy in things that I stopped noticing years ago. In my life, in my town, in my family, and in myself. And I just wish that you would let me return the favor, just a little bit. That you could  _ understand  _ that there if there’s a “Just Victor,” then I “just” like you.”

Yuuri ended his speech with a timorous smile, but Victor could only gape at him.

For over a decade, he had been praised for his constant ability to surprise and entertain. For changing the sport of figure skating. For being handsome, and charming, and oh-so appealing.

Yuuri hadn’t mentioned any of that.

Yuuri saw the parts of himself he had long grown used to hiding from everyone outside of his home rink. Yuuri…

Yuuri saw Victor.

The  _ real _ Victor.

And he liked that?

Yuuri tightened his grip on Victor’s hand once more, softly, testing. Victor was helpless but to squeeze back. Yuuri breathed out a sigh before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around him. Victor let his head drop once more until it was resting on Yuuri’s shoulder, and pulled him into his lap, clinging hard to him, to the first thing in a long time he didn’t have to fight for.

“You know,” Yuuri murmured after a few minutes of comfortable silence, “beyond knowing your name, my family doesn’t know the first thing about skating. It means absolutely nothing to them.”

“...Yeah, I figured that out after the third time Mari mentioned ‘triple loopty-loops’ and ‘sal quads.’”

Around him, Yuuri vibrated in silent laughter. Victor joined him, carefully cradling the warmth blossoming around his heart.

“You really should let me sign your posters, though. I have to be kind to my number one fan, after all,” Victor finally teased.   


In response, Yuuri groaned, hiding his flushed face in Victor’s hair. “Victoruu~~!”

* * *

It was painfully early the next morning when Victor awoke to his door clattering shut, startling him out of his bed. He’d never seen the light at quite that angle in his room; but then, he’d rarely been awake before noon, and never at this hour, not since walking away.

He squinted towards the door, where Yuuri’s raised voice chased another he didn’t recognize down the hallway and the flight of stairs. He’d never heard Yuuri yell before, and certainly never in that rapid-fire, angry Japanese.

In curiosity he pulled a robe on and padded after the sounds, reaching the downstairs landing just in time to see Yuuri bodily throwing a person out the front door, slamming it shut behind him with another angry curse. He turned around, and Victor caught sight of a more thunderous expression than he knew Yuuri capable of. At least, until he noticed Victor standing on the bottom step; then his face drained of color. “Uh…”

“What’s going on?”

Mari nudged passed him, carrying a basket of laundry and seemingly completely unconcerned with the situation. “Yuuri’s just getting his morning exercise, throwing out the scummy paparazzi. Shame he got in so far today; you shouldn’t let yourself get distracted, Yuu-chan, you’re slipping.”

Yuuri went from white to red, spinning on his heel to glare after Mari. But Victor ignored the sibling teasing, raising his hand as if waiting to be called on. “How long has the press known where to find me?”

Yuuri’s eyes dropped to the floor and he scuffed it with his toe. “Uh… Since the first day? Someone in town… posted a picture of you and Minako-sensei at the ramen house your first night. They didn’t know you were looking to get away! They just thought it was funny, Minako-sensei’s new drinking buddy. But before anyone knew it, a whole flock of paparazzi arrived in town, trying to hunt down your whereabouts. Everyone in town closed up about the onsen, no one has said a word to any of them since they got into town! But, unfortunately, since this is the only place in town with rooms that won’t rent to any of those vultures, they’ve sort of… figured it out… Or at least the last few hangers-on keep trying.”

Victor furrowed his brows. “How have I missed this? I’m usually pretty good at spotting cameras.”

Yuuri coughed. “They usually try in the mornings, probably trying to catch you at your usual routines, but you sleep in almost every morning, so we’ve managed to clear them out before you get up. You almost never leave the onsen, and the one time we did go into town, well… you weren’t exactly the most observant person…”

Victor’s frown deepened. He’d been slipping. Yakov would… “Wait a minute. If everyone knows where I am… Why hasn’t Yakov showed up to drag me back? He threatened most of my way out here. Nothing would stop him from retrieving his star pupil, not unless…”  _ he doesn’t want me anymore _ . He couldn’t bring himself to voice the thought.

Even still, Yuuri shook his head adamantly. “Yakov, well… Wait, just a moment.”

Yuuri squeezed past Victor and dashed up the stairs, thundering towards his room. Only a few moments later he was back, clutching Victor’s cell in his hand. His face had turned bright red again, but still he thrust the phone back at Victor.

“My phone? ...But how did you..?”

“I don’t suppose you would remember. Your second night here, you drank too much, and I had to help you back to your room. Again. Yakov kept calling. I tried to get you to answer it, but you told me… Anyways, you handed me your phone, then fell asleep. I… I answered it, just to let him know that you were alright. I also… Well, I wanted to know if something had happened to make you… I was worried.  _ I  _ wanted to know if you were alright.

“Yakov had seen the photo with Minako-sensei, and was checking out of the hotel and making plans to come and collect you. I almost let him, but… Well, you said you couldn’t go back. You said people were taking tiny pieces of you until nothing was left. If he could have helped you, he would have by now. I asked him to stay away, at least until you were ready.”

Victor eyed him dubiously. Yakov wouldn’t have stayed away just because he was asked, especially not by a stranger. But then he recalled the way Yuuri had looked just after throwing the pap out, all puffed up and steel in his eyes. Yes, there was probably more than just asking. But he kept the thought to himself.

“I’m sorry I kept it from you, but he only agreed if I checked in with him regularly and let him know how you were doing. I know he’s your coach, but you deserve your privacy, so I kept it to letting him know you were still here and still safe. There’s been… a lot of other messages, but I haven’t looked at any of them, I promise!”

Victor stared down at the phone in his hands, feeling buffeted by a conflicting swell of emotions. On one hand, he felt apprehension. For the hundreds of texts, tweets, messages, and news articles that awaited him on his phone, a whole world of people screaming and clamoring to take the little stability he had found here away. For the fact that Yakov had let him go, for one reason or another. On the other hand, he didn’t think he deserved protection like this, not from a man he had only just last night accused of using him for his fannish delight, while he had really been protecting him all along.

Yuuri scuffed his toe again, causing Victor to look up. He was the exact opposite of how he’d been when Victor had first come downstairs: folded in on himself, arms crossed around his middle, shoulders slumped and making him seem as small as possible. “I’m sorry…” he mumbled.

Well, Victor couldn’t have that.

He stepped forward, tilting Yuuri’s face up towards him with a single finger under his chin. Yuuri’s face immediately bloomed bright red, staring up at him from so close with large, round eyes. “My Yuuri. How can I ever repay you?” he purred.

Yuuri looked like he was about to pass out. But just when Victor would have expected an eruption of squeeing from any other fan, Yuuri’s eyes suddenly glinted and he took a step back, pulling himself out of Victor’s grasp. “You don’t  _ owe me  _ anything, Victor. You deserve to be taken care of when you slip, just like everyone else.”

It was Victor’s turn to stare at the smaller man in awe. No one had ever said anything like that to him. Even Yakov, who was usually tasked with making sure Victor adhered to his recovery schedule during the rare injury, always pushed in terms of being ready for the next competition, of not jeopardizing his career.

No one had ever taken care of Victor… just because. Just Victor.

Victor was snapped out of his thoughts when Yuuri began walking away from him. He stared in shock and confusion until Yuuri paused at the door, turning to glance at him before he headed deeper into the onsen. “Well? Do you need more sleep, or are you going to help me clean up the baths before the guests start arriving?”

Victor beamed at him, and like the brown little pup that usually shadowed his master, trotted off to where Yuuri was leading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to combine two planned chapters to make this one, since once I got writing neither the fight nor the reporter incident took up as much space as I thought it would, so they got lumped together. The good news is I really am dedicated to making this nine chapters, so that means bonus post chapter! Maybe some much-demanded cameos happen! Stay tuned to find out!
> 
> The bad news is my laptop's hard drive had a hardcore death last week. Luckily I had just about everything backed up so I didn't lose a lot. Unluckily, one of the things I lost was this fic's outline. So I'm going to be trying to remember where I was going with this from the beginning, but I may be freewheeling it from here on out!
> 
>  
> 
> Hmmmm I wonder what distracted Yuuri enough for him to not catch a pap until he was practically at Victor's door. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


End file.
